


These Things Shape Us

by kho



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Family Drama, Family Issues, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Character Death, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-18 13:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9387479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kho/pseuds/kho
Summary: (Pt 2 of 3 up) What are the things that shaped Harvey?The things that happened to us. The things people said, The things that we were born into. The things we lost along the way. The people who looked at us and said March your butt up the stairs, kiddo. The people who left, the people who stayed. These things shape us.-Jennifer Pastiloff.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So a while back I was gushing to sal-si-puedes about how much I adore her writing, and specifically about how much I adored her [The Tenth Man](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8807479) (adored? was gutted by? destroyed by? all of the above) and we started talking about all manner of Lily things and I told her all about all these ideas I had about what I'd like to see of Lily and for Lily and about Lily, and.... it turned into this story. So thanks to sal-si-puedes for unwittingly letting me storyboard with you!!! It is also inspired by that story I mention above as it also includes a minor character death based not on spoilers but on theory based off of released pictures. I plan to have this finished and posted before the 25th when 6b premieres.
> 
>  **Re: Above Quote:**  
>  I wouldn't normally quote from a blog passage, but goodness. I typed in "the things that shape us, quotes" because sometimes I'm awful at titles and I knew this story was about the things that shape Harvey and surely there must be a quote and this blog is... it is stunning. [Please go read it](http://themanifeststation.net/2013/05/04/the-things-that-shape-us/). Hits you right there with the truth and makes you bleed.
> 
> That above, specifically, and the following, hit me particularly hard:  
>  _It doesn’t mean you are stuck this way or that. It just means that this picture right here, the one that’s all mangled, with the tape, that picture is one of the reasons you are who you are. Just try and get undone from it all. See what happens._
> 
> I am 2/3rds done and this story will be 3 parts long.

_-2007-_

When Gordon died the only people from Pearson Hardman to come were Jessica and Donna.  They stood together on the far side as his father's body was lowered into the ground and both of them knew well enough to not push him, to let Harvey come to them if and when he was ready.  He stood by Marcus with a hand on his back, holding him up, because Marcus always wore his heart on his sleeve and his tears tore into Harvey's soul.

Guilt, shame, regret, sadness.  He couldn't get a hold of any of them, couldn't reign one in and define it, figure out which he was feeling most, all of them swam together in a morass of thick, vicious ugliness, one bleeding into the next and weighing him down and down and down until he didn't even feel like he could move to walk the few short steps to thank Donna and Jessica for showing up.  

“She didn't even fucking come,” Marcus says later as they settle into their limo to head back to Harvey's.  

Harvey closes his eyes, straightens his jacket, and clears his throat.  “I asked her not to.”

Marcus looks at him.   “You're lying for her?  You're covering--”

“I'm not covering Marcus.  She called.  She asked if I'd prefer she didn't come.  I said yes,” he says, finally meeting his brothers eyes. “You can't tell me you'd want to look across his tombstone and see her and…. _Him._ ”

Marcus sighs, reaching over to pat Harvey's leg.  “She shoulda come anyway.  For us, Harvey.  You never got that part.”

Harvey frowns. “Got _what_ part?”

Marcus looks at him and shakes his head.  “You know what, Harv.  I get that you worshipped Dad okay.  I did too.  But she stopped being our mom that day because that's what you wanted and--”

“ _Marcus_ ,” Harvey warned.

“-- and she's still our mother okay?  She still made us chicken soup when we were kids and cleaned up your puke when you were sick in the third grade and vomited on her Monet, and she still _loved us_ man and--”

“You don't get it,” Harvey grits out, looking out if he window and gritting his teeth.   “She didn't ask you to keep her secret.  She didn't…. I _walked in on them_.  She promised me, she _promised_ she wouldn’t--”

“And you told dad and she left just like you wanted her to and you deleted her out of our lives and she _let_ you, and that's fucked up Harvey.”  Marcus smacks Harvey in the chest, hard, and Harvey finally looks at him.  “I don't blame you for asking her not to be there.  I get it.  But she still shoulda been.”  He raises his eyebrow and goes to smack Harvey again but Harvey intercepts him, smacking his hand into Marcus’ arm instead.  Marcus laughs. “Alright? You get me? She still shoulda been there for us, even if we told her to go to hell and spat in her face.  She shoulda come anyways.”

“Yeah,” Harvey says, sighing deeply and scrubbing at his eyes.   “I guess.”

He expected nothing less than what he got from her that evening: Pure and utter silence.   What he didn't expect was the disappointment he felt.

+

_-2017-_

“What are you staring at?”

Mike spun around, startled by Harvey’s voice.  “Your…”  He pointed at the empty wall space.  “Your weird ass rubber duckie painting is gone.”

“Sold it,” Harvey said, shuffling through the papers on his desk, frowning hard down at the surface.  “Wanna get to work Mike?”

“Why,” Mike asks, coming around and plopping himself into a seat across from Harvey, frowning at him.  “Why would you sell that? Who in the world would pay _money_ for that?”

In that instant he wants to punch Mike right in the mouth as he laughs.  “Drop it.”

“I just, I assumed it was a joke painting, but you’ve had it as long as I’ve known you,” Mike says, gesturing to the wall where it used to hang.  It’s so bare and glaringly obviously empty without it hanging there, but he hasn’t been able to make himself replace it with anything else.  “I thought maybe it was from your brother and you know, he like… forced you to hang it--”

“My mother painted it,” Harvey says, blinking down at the papers swimming in front of his eyes.  He hadn’t expected it to hit him in the gut still like this so many months later.  “She was an artist.  Is.”

“Harvey.”

“Drop it,” Harvey says, rapping a knuckle against his desk on top of the folder.  “Get to work, would you?”

“Harvey, you don’t even… you never talk about…”  Mike leans forward then and Harvey grits his teeth before finally looking up at him.  “Why sell it?”

“Drop it Mike.”

Mike instantly freezes and looks horrified, and Harvey regrets not filling in the empty space immediately.  “Harvey why’d you sell it?”

Harvey shakes his head.  “Doesn’t matter.”

“Harvey.”

“We had debts to settle,” Harvey grits out.

“So you sold a memory,” Mike asks.  “What debts, Harvey?  When you settled on my cases?  You sold your mother’s painting to settle on _my cases_?”

“He didn’t give me a fucking god damn choice, Mike,” Harvey spits out finally.  “He said… he said 20 million or that painting.  It was.  It was personal between me and him, Mike, so.  So that’s what happened.  Drop it.”

“Tanner,” Mike asks, and Harvey watches the way his fingers clench into the arms of his chair.  

Harvey laughs humorlessly.  “No, actually.  It turns out my enemies are many.  This one goes back a lot further than Travis Tanner.”

Mike’s eyes close.  “Stemple.  God damn Stemple, who I gave to you as a thank you gift, Jesus Christ,” Mike says, standing abruptly.  “God damn, I really am the gift that keeps on giving, just like Jessica always said.”

“Mike.”

“This is my fault.  He was content to let shit lie, he was content to just duck you and live on his glory days but no, I had to go and give him to you all wrapped up like a fucking present and reawaken the beast and then I _handed him_ the perfect way to fuck you.”  Mike runs his hands over his face and walks around the desk and stops just short of Harvey.  “I’m so… Harvey, I’m so--”

“It’s not your fault, Mike,” Harvey says gently, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder.  “We did what we did together, okay?  You paid your price. I had to pay mine.”

Mike shakes his head.  “I’m getting it back for you.”

“No,” Harvey says, shaking his head and poking Mike in the chest with a finger. “Let it go, Mike. It’s done.”

“No,” Mike says, waving his hand through the air.  “No fucking way, no way in hell.  I’m getting it back Harvey.  He is not taking that from you.”

Harvey smiles then.  “I thought it was just a weird ass rubber duckie painting.”

Mike smiles back.  “It’s _your_ weird ass rubber duckie painting, and I’m getting it back.”

“There’s no way in hell Elliot Stemple is going to let you--”

“Who said _let_ ,” Mike spits out, eyebrow arching.  “I’m _taking_ it back.”

+

_-1994-_

The year after his family fell apart Harvey was buried under books and case law and teachers and Jessica breathing down his neck, and by the time he looked up it was his birthday and he’d completely forgotten it was even coming up.  

He lies to Gordon and says he has plans with his friends and instead locks himself in his dorm room.  He pulls out his heavy ethics textbook and rolled his eyes at Gerrard’s verbose pretentious text and grumbles to himself about the uselessness of his squeaky clean holier than thou approach to law.

When there was a knock at his door at 8pm he opens it with a twenty to pay the pizza man and his jaw all but drops open to see Lily standing there with takeout dangling from her hands.  “Lobster, oysters, crab.  I don’t know what your favorite is.”

“Mom,” he choked out, blinking.  “I had uh.  I ordered pizza.”

“Sweetheart, pizza is not a proper dinner for your birthday,” Lily said, and then she leaned forward with a hand to his shoulder and pecked him on the cheek.  “Happy birthday, baby.”

She made then to move past him but he blocked the doorway.  “Mother.  I’m busy.”

“Harvey.”

“You should’ve called first,” he said, staring out into the hallway past her shoulder.  “I can’t just.”

“It’s your birthday,” she says, and a lump forms in his throat at the wavery quality her voice takes at the end.  “Harvey, it’s your birthday.”

“I’m sorry, Mother,” he says, looking down, lowering his voice, genting it.  “I’m just, I’m still so angry with you.”

“Why?”

He jerks his eyes up at that, anger flashing in his chest.  “What?”

“Why,” she asks, shrugging.  “I cheated on your father, not you.”

“Unbelievable,” he’d says, and starts to shut the door in her face.

“Harvey, God damnit, I am your mother,” she’d yells, slapping her hand against the door.  “I love you.  It’s your _birthday_.  It’s been months and you haven’t taken any of my calls.”

He meets her eyes then.  “You made a fool out of my father for years, and you can’t give me more than a few months to get past that?  I _saw you_ , Mother.  I walked in and--”

“Honey, I’m sorry--”

“Don’t,” he yells.  “Don’t.  No baby, no honey, no sweetheart.  Don’t call me anything, ever again!  You made me a liar!  You made me let you keep making a fool of my father for _years_ , you lied to me and to him and you forfeited your right to call me anything!”

“I gave _birth to you_ ,” she yells back, shoving at him and getting in his face.  “I carried you in my belly for nine months and I was in labor for 32 hours, I brought you into this world and I’ve forfeited _nothing_!”

“Get out,” he grits out.

She sighs and backs up, holding up her hands.  “At least eat your dinner?  Pizza is no dinner for a birthday, Harvey.”

“Fine,” he spits out, and jerks the bags out of her hands, slamming the door in her face.  

He throws them in the trash immediately, and doesn’t answer the door when the pizza arrived twenty minutes later.  He brings the trash out to the dumpster that night around midnight but he could swear he still smells oysters for days in his room.

+

_-1982-_

“But won’t the bacon get cold?”

“You cover it, and then you put it back in to reheat it if you need,” Gordon says, rolling his eyes and smacking Harvey on the shoulder.  “You make the bacon first so the grease is in the pan and flavors the eggs.”

Harvey shrugs and puts the bacon in the hot pan, jumping slightly when the grease pops.  “How do I know when it’s time to flip?”

“When you turn at least thirteen years old, so in two years,” Lily says, taking the spatula out of Harvey’s hands and hip checking him out from behind the stove with a wink.  “You’re too young to cook anything with grease, Harvey.  Mac and Cheese, that’s all.”

“Ma, God,” Harvey pouts, rolling his eyes at Gordon.  “She’s so annoying.”

“Don’t talk about your mother that way,” Gordon says, but then winks at him and rests his hand on top of Harvey’s head, ruffling his hair.  “Lil, I’m right here.  He’s fine.”

“It’s not safe, I’ve had this talk with him time and time again,” Lily starts.

“Come on, Lil,” Gordon says, stepping closer and putting his hand on her back, lowering his voice.  “I’m gone so much, let me teach the kid how to make eggs and bacon.”

“You _choose_ to be gone so much,” she grits, but she slaps the spatula back into Harvey’s hands and backs off, holding her hands up.  “The kid gets burned, you take him to the hospital.”

“Geez, babe, dramatic,” Gordon grits back and then waits while Lily stalks off into the other room.  He turns back to Harvey and grins at him.  “Women, Harv.  Gotta love ‘em.”

“Cuz if you don’t, why would you keep them around,” Harvey says, grinning back.

Gordon laughs and gestures at the pan that it’s time to flip the bacon.  “I might say that too often, kiddo.”

+

_-1996-_

“Oh my _God_ ,” Dana says, yanking her shirt back on angrily and stomping her shoes back onto her feet.  “I am so _sick_ of this!”

“Just tell me who he was,” Harvey says, sitting down on the edge of his bed, his shirt still half off, jeans unzipped, one sock on and one sock off.  “Scottie, just--”

“Your jealousy streak is fucking out of control and it’s your least attractive quality,” Dana says, walking up to him and flicking him in the forehead with her finger.  “He’s in my calculus class.  I was asking him a question about the assignment.”

“I’m good at math.  Ask me.”

Dana rolls her eyes.  “Harvey, God.”

“You were flirting,” he yells, throwing his arms out.  “Flipping your hair, touching him on the shoulder.  I’m not stupid, Scottie!”

“No but see, you are,” she says, shoving at his shoulder. “Because a girl was waiting for you in your room, naked, and rather than getting laid before I have to go to forensic psychology, you _accuse me of fucking Todd!_ ”

Harvey nods.  “Todd.”

Dana rolls her eyes up to the ceiling and makes like she’s strangling Harvey’s neck.  “I asked him about homework.  I asked him about _school_.  I did not hit my knees and _blow him_ , Harvey!”

He blows out a huff.  “You were flirting, and when I came over you gave me the cold shoulder.”

“Because you came over to stake your claim,” she yells, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.  “I am not property!  I was in the middle of speaking and you interrupted and tried to haul me away like--”

“I saw the way he looked at you!”

“So?”

“He wants you!”

Dana laughs, throwing her hands up in the air.  “And?!”

He stands then, giving her a withering look.  “Seriously?”

“Harvey, do you know how many guys want me?  I happen to be really hot, okay?  And smart, and nice, and funny, and fun.  I am, in fact, all manner of things that many, many guys find wildly attractive!”

Harvey nods, his eyes widening.  “Yes!  I know!”

“And yet,” she says, cupping her hands around his face and holding his head there in front of her, making him look her in the eyes.  “Whose bed was I in?”

Harvey’s mouth quirked just the tiniest bit.  “Mine.”

“Then,” she says, flicking him in the forehead again.  “Shut.  Up!”

His arms come around her waist and pull her closer to him.  “I know, just the thought of you with another guy--”

“Makes you die a little on the inside, I know,” she says, grinning up at him and winding her arms around his neck.  “I’m the wind beneath your wings, Harvey Specter.”

He smirks then and arches an eyebrow.  “Don’t push it.”

“Seriously, Harvey,” she says, rubbing her hand over his chest and looking into his eyes. “I’m not your mother.  I will never cheat on you.”

“Okay, okay,” he groans, letting his forehead drop to her shoulder, burying his nose in her neck.  “I’m sorry.  I just go a little nuts sometimes.”

“I have to go now,” she says, pulling out of his arms, laughing as he tries to hold onto her.  “You missed your chance Specter!  I was good to go ten minutes ago, now I _gotta_ go!”

“Aw, come on, you’re just gonna leave me here,” he pleads, giving her a puppy dog face.  

She grins, opens the door, backs out of it, and waves goodbye.

+

_-2012-_

“Motion to dismiss,” Mike says and tosses one folder on the desk, “motion for continuance,” he says as he slaps another down, “and settlement agreement.  That they’ll never go for.”  He waves the final folder in Harvey’s face.  “Which is a shame, because it is a thing of beauty, Harvey, like you don’t even know, you don’t _understand_ how beautiful this thing is, it is iron clad and locked _up_ like you wouldn’t--”

“Marcus!”

Both Harvey and Mike turn to see Donna being spun around in a circle, her red hair flying out behind her as she bats at the shoulders of the guy holding her up.  Mike gives a confused look to Harvey, who’s looking on in bemused disapproval, and that’s when it clicks.

“Marcus,” Mike repeats, setting the folder down.  “Your brother Marcus.”

Harvey’s backing away without giving Mike an answer, Marcus stalking closer and closer until he finally bumrushes Harvey and picks him up as well in a backbreaking hug.  “God damnit, Marcus, I _work_ here!”

“Is the stick always up his ass these days,” Marcus asks, dropping Harvey off before whirling to look at Mike.  “Or does he still remember how to extract it from time to time?  I could give him a refresher course if need be.”

“Jerk.”

“Dickhead.”

“Assface,” Harvey says, grinning from ear to ear.  “Mike, this is Marcus, Marcus… Mike.”

Mike reaches out a hand to shake but lets out a yelp as he’s pulled into a back slapping hug that he’s going to be feeling for days.  “Okay then.  Hugging’s nice too.”

“We don’t shake hands, Mike.  If you’re his family, you’re mine.”

Harvey’s hand goes to the back of his neck and it’s the first time Mike’s probably ever seen Harvey look embarrassed.  “What are you doing here?”

“You know why I’m here,” Marcus says, still looking at Mike.  “Can you help me out buddy?  Convince him to go to lunch with me.”

Mike frowns at Harvey.  “Uh.  What?”

Harvey shakes his head.  “I said no, Marcus.”

“It’s one lunch.”

“I said no.”

“She’s only in town for the week, man, just one lunch,” Marcus says, perching on the edge of Harvey’s desk. “He’s not in the picture anymore, their divorce was finalized.  It’s just her.”

Harvey sits down in his chair, pulls over the folders Mike had tossed onto his desk, and begins flipping through them.  “I’ve already had lunch.”

“A snickers bar and a coke are not lunch,” Mike says, confused as he steps forward.  “Why not go to lunch?”

“Because my Mother is the ‘she’ in question,” Harvey says, glaring up at Mike.  “And I am not going to go to lunch with her.”

“Oh,” Mike says, backing up.  “Okay, I should--”

“Stay, we have work to do, Mike,” Harvey bites out, staring down at the folders.

Mike’s eyes flick to Donna.  She shakes her head at him.  “Uh.  Okay?”

“You’re gonna need to get over this one day, Harvey,” Marcus says, standing up and yanking the folder out of Harvey’s hands.  

Harvey glares up at him.  “Give it back, Marcus.”

“Mini-Harvey can do whatever work you need done while you take _one hour_ to have lunch.”

Mike snorts.  “I’m not his Mini-Me.”

Marcus gestures at Mike’s hair.  “Your hair suggests you wanna be.”

Mike clears his throat and runs his fingers through his hair.  “Actually Scottie said I was more like you than him.”

Marcus grins, arching an eyebrow.  “You know Scottie?  Great girl.”

Mike makes a face.  “Yeah.”

Harvey sighs, snapping his fingers at the folder in Marcus’ hand.  “I’m not going to lunch.  Drop it.”

“She’s gonna die one day and then what,” Marcus says finally, dropping the folder on Harvey’s desk.

Marcus leaves before Harvey answers and Mike takes a seat opposite him.  “You okay?”

Harvey’s lips press together.  “I’m fine, go do your job.”

“I already did it,” Mike says, gesturing at the folders.  “I did my job _and_ your job.”

Harvey looks up at him.  “Mike.”

Mike holds up his hands.  “All right!  Okay!  I’m leaving.”

  
+


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 3

_-2010-_

“I’ll take them,” he tells the curator.

The woman looks at him, her eyes lighting up. ”Which?”

“All three,” he says, motioning down the line of paintings, beautiful nudes in watercolor pastel.

“I’ll get the artist’s card--”

“No thank you,” Harvey says, stepping back. ”I’d rather not speak directly to the artist. Can you be mediary?”

She frowns at him but nods. ”Certainly. May I have your name and address, we’ll deliver them--”

“No, again, thank you,” Harvey says, digging out his wallet out of his back pocket. ”I’ll handle the delivery myself, and I prefer to remain anonymous.”

“Oh, sir, this is her first sale, she’s going to want to know who--”

“No, I’m sorry,” he says, flashing a wad of cash at her, spanning it and waving it in the air. ”It’s anonymous or nothing.”

He hangs them in his apartment, and looks at them every day. The one by the door is his favorite and sometimes he sits on the window sill even though it’s too narrow, hard and uncomfortable, just to stare at it for hours. It’s Jessica who puts it together.

“LVA, hm,” she says one evening, handing him a scotch and perching against the bar. His eyes fall to the floor. ”The one in your office was signed LVS. Strange, that.”

“She took her new husband’s name when she left my father,” Harvey mutters, and downs half the glass in one go.

“Why,” she asks, coming over to set next to him. ”After all these years, why are you buying her paintings? Putting them up in your living room.”

“They’re beautiful, are they not,” he asks, avoiding the question.

She nods. ”Exquisite. Doesn’t answer why you’re buying your mother’s paintings.”

He stares down at his hands, clears his throat. ”He left her. Ironic isn’t it. Other way around from what she’s used to. Found a younger, prettier model.”

Jessica nods. ”So this is… what then?”

Harvey shrugs. ”It hurts to be the one that got left.” He smiles, bitterly. ”Even if you deserve it.”

Jessica settles into the seat next to him. ”Harvey Specter. Is that your super secret soft underbelly showing?”

He grits his teeth and finishes off the rest of his scotch, getting up to pour another. ”I just want to know she’s safe. That’s all. I just…” He clenches his fist around the bottle to keep it from hitting the glass as his hand trembles slightly. ”I need to know she’s not homeless somewhere on my watch.”

Jessica grins as he walks back over to her. ”It’s good to see, Harvey.”

“What is,” he grouses, settling back in next to her. He rolls his eyes as she loops her arm through his and rests her head on his shoulder. ”My weakness?”

“That the puppy I met all those years ago is still in there,” she answers softly, patting his leg. ”Under all the rough exterior and the layers of hardness and the betrayal and the anger and the cocksuredness. Puppy’s still there.”

Harvey snorts and rolls his eyes again, resting his head back against the couch. ”Oh shut up.”

+

_-2002-_

“What are you doing, kiddo?”

Harvey frowns and looks over at his father, lowering his bottle of beer. ”I’m… watching the Giants?”

“With your life, Harvey,” Gordon says, twisting on the couch to face him better.

Harvey gestures around his condo. ”I’d say I’m doing pretty well with my life.”

“Harvey you’re what now, thirty?” Gordon reaches over to the table and grabs a few chips. “And you’re just letting that gorgeous secretary of yours go out with a string of men that aren’t you and if you’re not careful you’re gonna lose her for good.”

Harvey freezes. ”Dad. Donna and I aren’t--”

“Like that, yeah, yeah, so you keep telling me,” Gordon says, resting his hand on the back of Harvey’s neck. ”But here’s the thing. Why the hell not?”

Harvey glares at the television. ”Can we just watch the damn game, Dad?”

“You think she’s not pretty enough?”

Harvey gives him a look. ”Donna’s gorgeous.”

“Of course she is, good to see you’re not blind,” he says, arching an eyebrow at him. ”Does she bore you?”

“No Dad, of course not, she’s one of the few people in this world that _don’t_ bore me.”

“Do you think you can do better than her? Because… you’re my kid and I’m pretty biased, but, son,” Gordon says, shrugging. ”Really don’t think you could.”

Harvey grins, laughing as he looks at him. ”No, Dad, that’s not it. In a million years I don’t think I’ll ever find someone better than Donna.”

“Then what the--”

“I love her,” Harvey spits out finally, putting his beer down on the table. ”She means more to me than anything else in this world, except you and Marcus. I can’t lose that. I won’t.”

“Lose, lose what, you’d be gaining--”

“No, and that’s final,” Harvey says, swiping his hand through the air. ”I go for more with her and it doesn’t work out and I lose her? No. Not happening. No thank you.”

Gordon frowns at him. ”Since when did you become such a coward?”

Harvey’s eyes flash angrily. ”What did you just say to me?”

“I said you’re a goddamn coward,” Gordon yells, pulling back and standing up. ”Son, you gotta risk shit to get shit. If I hadn’t ever spoken to your mother--”

“Exactly!” Harvey stands too and points at him. ”Exactly, Dad, if you hadn’t risked it with that woman--”

“That’s your mother you’re talking about, watch it.”

“Then you wouldn’t have been blind sided and cuckholded and devastated by her!”

Gordon gives him a look that says he’s not even sure he knows who Harvey is anymore. It hurts like hell. ”And I wouldn’t have _you_. Or Marcus. Or twenty years of happiness.”

“Twenty years of _lies_!”

“God, son, get _over_ it,” Gordon yells, spreading his arms wide. ”What happened between your mother and I was between us, it wasn’t _about_ you.”

“And it never will be,” Harvey says, sitting back down on the couch. ”Now can we watch the goddamn game?”

Gordon sits down next to him and turns his head to watch the television. ”That breaks my heart kid,” he says after a few minutes. ”Not everyone is your mother. Love doesn’t always end like that. And even knowing it did, I’d do it all over again because I was head over heels, Harvey. I wouldn’t give that up for nothing.”

“I’m not saying never, Dad,” Harvey says softly, staring straight ahead. ”I’m saying not with Donna. And not right now.”

“I don’t care if it’s Donna, but you gotta be open for it, son,” Gordon says. ”Getting your heart smashed hurts like hell, but the build up to that? That’s the stuff that makes life worth living.”

+

_-2017-_

Harvey freezes three steps inside his office, eyes transfixed on his wall.

“Wasn’t easy,” says a voice behind him. ”Honestly I thought he’d cave a lot sooner than he did. I’m a stubborn fucker though. Seven months all told.”

Harvey blinks, walking forward, reaching out to touch the painting that’s been gone for almost a year now, right back on his wall like it had never left. ”Mike.”

“Completely lying about his kids being anchors though,” Mike continues, leaning against the wall under the painting, grinning at Harvey. ”Wasn’t hard to press when I finally figured out where it hurt.”

Harvey’s fingers trace the lines of green and yellow and he can almost hear his mother’s laugh, right there, right next to him, right in his ear. ”She dropped the paint,” he says.

Mike frowns. ”What?”

“She intended for the dragon, alligator, whatever it is… this thing, this--” He laughs, shrugging and shaking his head. ”--to be purple.” He runs his fingers over the platypus-like bill. ”But she dropped the paint. Spilled everywhere. Purple was my favorite color. Asked me what she should paint it instead, so I said green.”

Mike looks at the painting, standing shoulder to shoulder with Harvey. ”Purple would’ve been nice too.”

Harvey’s hand falls to his side and he finally turns to look at Mike. ”How in the hell, Mike?”

Mike grins. ”That’s for me to know and you to never find out.”

Harvey gives him a look, mouth quirking in a smirk despite himself. ”Mike.”

“Oh come on, it’s so much cooler if it’s a mystery,” Mike wheedles, hand latching onto Harvey’s arm, pushing him towards the desk. ”I tell you how I did it and it just loses something. No. It’s better this way.”

Harvey reaches out and puts his hand on Mike’s shoulder. ”Thanks Mike,” he says, even as a lump threatens to close his throat. ”It… That painting means a lot to me.”

“Yeah,” Mike says, stepping forward and hugging Harvey before Harvey can even register that’s what’s happening. His arms wrap around Harvey’s back and squeeze him, tighter than Harvey would have expected Mike was capable of. ”I’d do anything for you, Harvey.”

“Shut up,” Harvey grouses back, but he squeezes Mike just as tight before shoving him off and away with a smack to the cheek and a smirk to cover the emotion he’s feeling. ”Get back to work, wouldja?”

+

_-2009-_

“Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

Harvey nods, looking down at the menu. ”I was free. It sounded important.”

Lily nods, fingers fumbling with the silverware. ”Uh. I lied about that, Harvey.”

Harvey looks up. ”Excuse me?”

Lily lets out a long breath. ”It’s nothing to do with my health, I’m fine. I actually didn’t even mean to lead you to believe it was about my health but you jumped there, and I thought maybe if I played along you’d agree to come see me.”

Harvey laughs, closing his eyes. ”Wow, Mother. That’s uh.” He nods, fist clenching around the stemware of his wine glass as he picks it up to tap it in a sarcastic salute against her own. ”Calculating. Well done.”

“Well if you’d ever deign to see me without the manipulation maybe I wouldn’ be forced to--”

“Nobody forced anything on you, ever, Mother,” Harvey says. ”Not ever. You make your own choices.”

Lily reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose and her nail polish is chipping and there’s flecks of turquoise colored paint still speckled around the cuticles. ”Fine, Harvey. I accept it. I accept that you will always hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

She gives him a look. ”No?”

“I nothing you,” he says, shrugging and motioning for the waiter to come over. ”We’re ready to order. I have somewhere to be in an hour.” After the waiter takes their order he drains half of his wine and leans forward. “You were saying?”

“I love you, Harvey. I always have, and I always will. You can hate me, or wish me dead, or _nothing_ me all you like. I get it.” She grits her teeth a moment and he almost, _almost_ , has the urge to comfort her. Reach across the table and take her hand. Admit he doesn’t hate her, he doesn’t even nothing her, he just can’t ever forgive her. He doesn’t, and she continues. ”Your father was one of a kind, and amazing, and you worshipped him, and I…”

“Made a fool of him,” Harvey says. ”Betrayed him. In his own home. In his own bed. With a _mechanic._ “

Lily laughs then, and he’s not expecting it. ”The way you say that, I swear. Like the most objectionable thing about it is that he works with his hands.”

Harvey’s jaw hardens. ”My father was an artist. He made music out of metal and air. He was the kindest, gentlest, most loyal, loving, giving man, and for you to go behind that man’s back with some grease monkey, ratfink, good for nothing--”

“Harvey, enough,” Lily says, holding up her hands. ”I’ve said fine. I’ve accepted it. But today marks the day you’ve been in my life for thirty seven years and I want to see how my son is. How are you? Are you happy? How is your life?”

“Wow,” Harvey barks out with a harsh laugh. ”You don’t even remember when my birthday is, do you? It’s not for months. You’re early, Mother.”

“No, I’m not,” she says. ”On this day, thirty seven years ago, your father and I found out I was pregnant with you. We were in New Orleans in the middle of one of his gigs and one of the girls noticed I kept excusing myself to go throw up and figured it out. The doctor confirmed it the next day, but I knew she was right the second she said it. It was the best day of my life. So actually, it _has_ been thirty seven years since you’ve been in my life Harvey.”

Harvey’s never heard that story before and it throws him more than he expects. The tears glistening in her eyes, the slight smile she gets as she says it was the best day of her life. He feels like his heart is shattering all over again just like it did when he was 16.

“I’m happy,” he says instead, breathing slow and steady, blinking past the urge to ask her for more details. How Gordon had reacted. What he’d said. What they’d done. Who they’d told first. ”My life is fine, Mother. I’m a junior partner at the firm.”

She smiles but looks disappointed as she brings a napkin up to her eyes to dab at the. ”Good. That’s great honey.”

He bites his tongue on the urge to spit fire at her for using that word. He hasn’t let her call him that since he was eighteen. He allows her it just this once. ”How are you?”   
  


“I’m doing well,” she says, pausing as the waiter brings their food to the table. She composes herself as he sets out the dishes and tops off their glasses of wine. ”I’m having an art show in a few months.”

He nods, smiling slightly. ”So you're still painting.”

“Are you seeing--”

“No.”

She frowns, sitting back. ”You’re not seeing anyone at all? Or you’re not seeing anyone you’ll tell me about?”

“I’m not seeing anyone seriously,” he says, jabbing some lettuce onto his fork.

She looks at him, studies him a moment, and he’s struck with the memory that he’d never once been able to lie to his mother without her knowing exactly what the lie was. She’d always been able to read him like a book. Thinking back on it with everything that’s happened he thinks it’s probably apropos that a liar can always spot the lies, but he thinks maybe his ability to read people so succinctly came from her. It certainly hadn’t come from Gordon.

“I’m not,” he says, feeling defensive. ”I don’t have time for that. Work takes up too much of my time and I’ve never met a woman that was okay with coming second best to casefiles.”

Lily studies him a moment longer and then appears to let it go, nodding and chewing on a bite of bread. ”But you’re well? You’re happy?”

“I am,” he says, and yesterday it would have been true. Earlier that very same day, it would have been true. But here, sitting in front of Lily, it feels like a lie. It feels wrong coming out of his mouth and it pisses him the hell off. ”I really am. I’m really, really happy.”

“Good,” she says, but she’s no longer meeting his eye.

They don’t speak much for the remaining fifteen minutes of their meal and when they part ways the hug feels stiff, awkward and empty, and it hurts more than Harvey expected it too.

+

_-2016-_

Mike is a solid warm presence to his right but Harvey can’t bare to look at him just yet. Too soon Mike won’t be a solid presence next to him at all, and he can’t fucking stand it.

“It’s not your fault Harvey,” Mike says. ”I made my case. I convinced you to hire me.”

Harvey takes a breath, wants to scream, lash out, hit something. He quiets his voice though, because this isn’t about him, it’s about Mike, and Mike needs him to be calm. ”I was the one who made the call.”

“You were,” Mike says, but it doesn’t sound like recrimination, it sounds like a dismissal. ”Doesn’t matter.” After a breath, Mike continues. ”‘Cause even knowing how it all turned out, I’d do it again.”

It hurts, the sentiment. The words. The truth of it all. Most of all though, the echo it creates in his head. It hurts deep down in his heart and his gut, cuts him like a knife through and through. ”Guess I would too,” he says, and then makes some sort of quip about finding someone dumb enough to go to prison for him because if he doesn’t he’s in serious trouble of completely and utterly goddamn losing it.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there after Mike’s walked into the prison. It could be minutes or it could be hours for all he can tell. All he knows is he only becomes aware of the wetness of his cheeks when Ray’s hand lands on his shoulder. ”Coltrane for the ride home?”

Harvey nods but doesn’t move to get in the car. He keeps staring at the door and willing Mike to come back out of there. Maybe they hop a train, maybe Harvey knows a guy who knows a guy who can get them on a plane. Maybe they _do_ go to Buenos Aires, like he’d teased all those many years ago. Maybe they go to Spain, Uruguay, goddamn Africa for crying outloud. Anywhere but here. Anywhere.

“My father said to me once that even after everything my Mother put him through, even after the heartbreak, the six months of drowning himself in whiskey, the finding out that the entirety of his marriage was a lie… he’d do it all over again,” Harvey says, his voice raw and scratchy.

Ray nods, and to his credit he never does look at Harvey, simply stands next to him, butt leaning against the fender next to Harvey’s, and stares at the prison before them. ”Better to have loved and lost.”

“Never understood it,” Harvey says, looking away to his left, reaching up to wipe the tears off his face where Ray can’t see. ”Never really got how someone would rather be in all that pain, even if a lot of good came out of the before. Because the after was…” He shrugs, shaking his head. ”Fucking soul-crushingly devastating.”

Ray does look then, Harvey can feel his eyes on the side of his face. ”And now?”

Harvey smiles softly and nods his head.

”... Al Green?”

“Charles Bradley,” Harvey says, and then kicks off the car, walking to the door. Ray beats him of course, holding the door open for him. ”Thanks, Ray.”

“Scenic route,” Ray asks as he settles into the driver’s side.

“Yeah,” Harvey says, settling into the seat and looking out of the window. “Just get me back by dusk, huh?”

“Sure thing, Harvey.”

+

_-1985-_

“Harvey, get your ass out here!”

Harvey comes out of his room and makes his way to the living room, head hanging in shame, because he already knows what’s coming. ”Yeah, Dad?”

“Got something you wanna tell me, son,” Gordon asks, standing next to his mother. He looks up at Lily and sees tears streaming down her face. ”I’ll give you a hint. Yes. You want to tell me. You really, really want to tell me, Harvey. Because if you don’t, and I tell you what I was just told? It’s not going to be pretty.”

“Joey Bennett shoved Marcus off of his bike and then kicked him while he was laying on the ground so I went to talk to his Dad, because you said parents should be the ones to handle things, but he was stupid and he wasn’t gonna do anything, so I waited for Joey to get home from the grocery store with his Mom and I…” He shuffles his feet, looking down. ”I maybe broke his nose.”

“Excuse me?”

Harvey looks up to two shocked faces. ”I thought that’s what you--”

“Mrs. Bennett told me you were picking on Joey,” Lily says, her hand covering her mouth. ”She made it sound like you hitting him was unprovoked. Is Marcus okay?”

“He skinned his knee,” Harvey starts but Lily’s rushing past him and on her way to Marcus’ room before he can finish. Looking back at his Dad he frowns. ”You thought I was picking on someone?”

“It’s what she said, son,” Gordon answers.

Harvey feels rage for the first time ever directed at his father. ”I would never do that. I can’t believe you think I would ever--”

“I don’t, Harvey, but sometimes parents can be wrong,” Gordon says, sitting down on the couch. ”You shouldn’t have hit him.”

“His Dad wasn’t gonna do anything,” Harvey says defensively. ”He just said he didn’t know he’d done it and he said he was sorry and that’s all!”

“What have I always told you, Harvey? You come to me,” he says, pulling on Harvey’s hand and yanking him forward. ”You don’t go off half cocked, you come to me, you tell me. You tell me _everything_.”

“I thought I could handle it.”

Lily comes back in the room and hugs Harvey, kissing him on his hairline. ”Thank you for protecting your brother, baby.”

Harvey hugs her back. ”I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“You always tell us,” Gordon says, pulling him into a hug after Lily lets go of him. ”You got it? You tell us first.”

“And then you kick their ass,” Lily says, cupping her hands around Harvey’s face. ”Right? Black eye. Two maybe.”

Gordon laughs. ”Lily!”

“He shoved my baby boy off of his bike and kicked him while he was down, he deserves two black eyes,” Lily says stridently. ” _And_ a broken nose!”

+

_-1991-_

“Harvey, did you want a snack?”

Harvey glares down at his homework. ”No.”

“Are you sure, sweetie? I have that caramel dip you like so much.”

“Tell you what, if I’m hungry I’ll get it myself,” he snaps, flipping the page on his physics book and scribbling the next problem down in his notebook.

“You know Harvey, I’m getting a little sick of you treating me this way,” Lily says, propping her hip up against the table in front of him. ”I’m still your mother.”

“Tell Dad then,” Harvey shoots back, glaring up at her. ”Explain to him why it is I’m treating you whatever way it is you think I’m treating you, see if he thinks you deserve it or not?”

Lily reaches over and brushes back his hair from his forehead. He jerks his head back before she can do it again. ”You don’t understand, Harvey. It’s complicated.”

“You’re cheating on Dad,” he growls, gritting his teeth. ”Pretty straightforward to me.”

“I’m not happy,” she says, leaning her hands on the table in front of him, her eyes meeting his. She looks sad, and tired, and like she’s begging Harvey to understand. He almost wants to for a moment. ”I’m lonely. He’s never home, Harvey. I feel like I married someone who doesn’t exist. He’s at a gig, he’s in New Orleans, he’s in Santa Fe, he’s in New Jersey… He’s never here, and when he is, he spends all of his time with you and Marcus. When do I get him? I’m stuck here with you day in and day out and I get no time for myself. None, Harvey.”

Harvey slams his book closed and smacks his pencil down. ”Well I’m sorry that your children are such a burden to you, _Mother--_ “

“That’s not--”

“But maybe you shouldn’t have had us then, huh?” Harvey stands and gathers his books together, shoves them in his backpack.

“I never said you were a burden,” Lily starts.

“I’m going to go study at Paulie’s,” Harvey says, turning to go.

“Harvey, goddamnit, just stop and listen to me, _please_!”

Harvey stops but doesn’t turn around. ”Say it.”

“Would you please turn around?”

He does, and sits down on his father’s lazy boy, letting his backpack fall to the ground. “Go ahead.”

Lily sits down at the table in front of him and runs a hand through her hair. ”Gordon and I had so much fun together, Harvey. He was… Is, he still _is_ , the most enigmatic, fascinating man I’ve ever met. His sense of adventure, his fun loving spirit, his humor. We had so much fun, travelling across the country going to gigs together.”

Harvey nods. ”And then I was born, and you got _stuck_. Got it.”

She looks down at the table. ”I shouldn’t have said stuck. I didn’t mean stuck.”

“Yes, you did.”

Lily looks up and meets his eyes. ”Okay. Fine Harvey. Yes. Sometimes it does feel like being stuck. But not because of you. I love you. I love Marcus. And I love your father, but he… He’s never here. He got to keep doing what he loved and I had to stay here.” She takes a deep breath and gestures around. ”And I wouldn’t do it any different, honey, but yes. Sometimes I do feel stuck.”

Harvey’s anger gives way to sadness then, and he swallows around the lump in his throat. ”Why did you stay then, Mom? I don’t want you to feel stuck. I’d never want to be the reason you’re stuck.”

She gets up and comes over to crouch in front of him, putting her hands on his knees. ”That’s not what I meant either. What I meant was, I thought Gordon and I would share it. Would share the fun times _and_ the responsibilities. And I’m not saying that excuses what I did, but… But I just, some times I wanted to have fun too, baby. So. I let myself.”

Harvey shakes his head, looking away from her. ”With men that aren’t my dad.”

“I’m only human, Harvey,” she says.

He rolls his eyes and picks up his backpack. ”Do me a favor huh? Don’t bring them here, huh? Keep it out of my face.”

  
“Okay Harvey,” she says, and it’s not until later, when he’s sitting on Paulie’s couch and smoking a joint that he wonders why he hadn’t asked her to stop instead.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr here under [@lovethesnark](http://lovethesnark.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Fanfiction Website  
> MOST of my fic is not on AO3, though all of my H5O and beyond is as AO3 didn't exist yet and it was too much to archive. It can be found on my website at [LoveTheSnark.com](http://www.lovethesnark.com).


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